


What Daddies Do

by sometimesiwritespn



Series: Ageplay/Involuntary Regression [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Age Play, Age Play Caregiver Sam Winchester, Age Regression/De-Aging, Caring Sam Winchester, Comfort, Daddy Sam, Daddy Sam Winchester, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Loving Sam Winchester, Non-Sexual Age Play, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Sam, Protective Sam Winchester, Self-Esteem Issues, Sick Character, reader is afraid of thunderstorms, sick reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesiwritespn/pseuds/sometimesiwritespn
Summary: “Baby girl, what do you call me?” He asks softly, bringing his thumb to rub over your cheek soothingly.“Daddy.” You answer quietly, and you know you should be embarrassed that you call him that, but right then, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.“That’s right, baby. Daddy. And do you know what daddies do?” You find yourself looking into his hazel gaze, unable to look away. His eyes are soft, and loving, not upset like you had expected them to be. When you don’t answer, Sam speaks again. “C’mon, darling. You know the answer. Daddies take care—”“Take care of their babies.” You finally answer when he cuts off, once more feeling your cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment. But now you’re not sure if you’re embarrassed about wetting yourself, or if you’re embarrassed that you hadn’t just gotten Sam in the first place to come take care of you.“Yes, sweetheart, daddies take care of their babies. And that means holding them through nightmares, or holding them through thunderstorms, or changing them when they go potty.”
Relationships: Sam Winchester & You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Series: Ageplay/Involuntary Regression [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/988173
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	What Daddies Do

**Author's Note:**

> It's the first time the reader is really letting herself go with Sam and get into her little space. There's nothing sexual in this, she just calls him daddy. She's embarrassed about letting herself go - and Sam of course is there to comfort her through it.
> 
> This is shorter than I like to make my stuff, but I had the idea and wanted to get it out there. I hope you guys like it, let me know what you think!

It was your first time going into little space with Sam, and you were having a hard time getting into it. Sam had actually been the one to bring it up months ago, after he’d seen your web browser history, and realized you were a little. You had never wanted him to find out, and were majorly embarrassed when he mentioned it. Slowly, piece by piece, Sam was trying to convince you to go into little space. He’d give you a pacifier if you were starting to get irritated, your version of being fussy. Sam had even bought diapers, which you kept refusing, even though Sam knew you desperately wanted to try them. 

Then one night, it seemed like everything had just built up. You had been in your little space since early evening, and Sam had actually gotten you into a diaper. You’d promised you wouldn’t use it, but Sam just soothed you by telling you that even if you did, it was okay. But, of course, you were still far too embarrassed for that. 

The only reason you’d even let Sam get you into a diaper was because you weren’t feeling good, and you really wanted that extra little bit of nurturing and affection. He’d taken your temperature earlier in the day and you were running a fever, and you just all around were pretty miserable. 

Then, in the middle of the night, came one of the worst thunderstorms you’d ever heard. In the bunker, you couldn’t see what was happening outside, but it sounded like World War III was going on out there. The wind was howling, the rain was hitting the side of the bunker harshly, and every so often there were mind-blowingly loud booms of thunder echoing throughout the room. 

And Sam just slept right through it like it was nothing. 

You were terrified of thunderstorms. Sam could always tell you got a little nervous during them, but he didn’t know just how bad your fear was, as you’d never wanted to admit just how scared you were. You knew the fear was irrational. You knew the loud noises coming from the thunder couldn’t actually do anything you to. You knew the sound of the rain shouldn’t worry you, because you were safe inside. Yet, that didn’t stop your heart from racing and you from jumping every time a particularly loud clap of thunder rumbled through. 

You had finally managed to fall asleep, all snuggled up in Sam’s arms, when there was a lull in the storm. The rain was still hitting the side of the bunker, but it was more of a soothing sound instead of an intense one. Sam had you tucked into his chest, you had your pacifier, and you were safe and warm, and soon the darkness had pulled you under.

Up until once again, a particularly loud clap of thunder jolted you from sleep, and it was then that you realized at some point you had wet yourself. You thought about waking Sam, because he’d said it was okay if you ended up using the diapers, but all you could feel was shame. You were the one that had wanted this. Even though he was the one who had been insisting you try it, you knew he wasn’t getting anything out of this. He was only doing it because you wanted it. You didn’t want to make it any harder for him than it had to be. 

That was how you found yourself in the bunker bathroom, trying to clean yourself up, and only succeeding in making an even bigger mess. Still pretty deep into your little space, it was frustrating you more and more, until you were just a crying mess, finally deciding to turn on the shower and hope that a shower would help you clean things up, and then you could work on cleaning up the bathroom. 

You didn’t even notice Sam standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. He had a small smile on his face – part fond, part exasperated. Of course, the smile was part fond, because of how much he loved you and just how adorable he thought you were. But the other part was exasperated, because he’d been trying to convince you for weeks now that this was fine, and he was more than happy to take care of you – and that included if you used the diapers. Now look what had happened, you were crying in the middle of the night in the bathroom, all messy and uncomfortable, simply because you hadn’t woken him up.

“Little girl.” Sam says softly after watching you try to get the water to a good temperature for a few moments. He offers you a light smile when your head whips around to look up at him, wanting you to know he wasn’t mad at you. “What are you doing, sweetheart? Did you go potty?” 

You hang your head in shame, tears filling your eyes. “I didn’t mean to.” You whisper quietly. “I didn’t want to, I didn’t want to use them, I just woke up and I had gone, and then I tried cleaning myself up, and I just made a bigger mess—”

Sam slowly walks over to where you’re sitting on the tiled floor, gently tilting your head up, using one finger under your chin. “Baby girl, what do you call me?” He asks softly, bringing his thumb to rub over your cheek soothingly.

“Daddy.” You answer quietly, and you know you should be embarrassed that you call him that, but right then, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“That’s right, baby. Daddy. And do you know what daddies do?” You find yourself looking into his hazel gaze, unable to look away. His eyes are soft, and loving, not upset like you had expected them to be. When you don’t answer, Sam speaks again. “C’mon, darling. You know the answer. Daddies take care—” 

“Take care of their babies.” You finally answer when he cuts off, once more feeling your cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment. But now you’re not sure if you’re embarrassed about wetting yourself, or if you’re embarrassed that you hadn’t just gotten Sam in the first place to come take care of you.

“Yes, sweetheart, daddies take care of their babies. And that means holding them through nightmares, or holding them through thunderstorms, or changing them when they go potty.” Sam smiles softly, leaning down so he can press a light kiss to your forehead. “Sweetheart, it’s not a bad thing that you went potty in your diaper. That just means you got comfortable enough to do it without even waking up, and that’s what I want. I want you to be comfortable doing this.” 

You lean forward to lean into his touch, sniffling quietly. You were already tired from the lack of sleep, and all of the crying you had been doing wasn’t helping things much either. “I’m sorry, daddy.” You whisper quietly. 

“Stay right here, lover, okay?” Sam says. A simple command, though he’s making sure his voice doesn’t sound commanding. “I’m going to go get you stuff so I can clean you up, and then we’ll get you into your jammies again, okay?” 

You nod your head, and at your agreement, Sam disappears from the bathroom. You slowly turn the water to the shower off, laying back when Sam gently asks you to lay down. “Sorry (Y/N), I know it’s not the most comfortable spot, but this way I can quick get you cleaned up and then we can get you back to bed.” 

He was right, of course, laying on the cold tile of the bathroom floor wasn’t the most comfortable or warm place for him to clean you up, but you also knew he was right in thinking that it would be the fastest way to clean you up. That way he didn’t have to worry about lack of space, or trying not to get anything on the bed comforter if he’d changed you on the bed. “’S okay.” You mumble quietly, your thumb finding its way to your mouth. 

Sam smiles as he gets a few wipes out and works on getting you all cleaned up and into a new diaper. “You are just so damn adorable, you know that?” He says softly as he watches you sucking your thumb, his smile only growing as he sees the blush forming on your cheeks. “(Y/N),” He starts, causing you to look up at him. When you’re in little space he always uses pet names, unless he really wants you to focus on him. “How are you feeling? Is it time for some more medicine?” 

“I’m okay right now.” You answer honestly. You’re not sure how much longer the feeling is going to last, but you didn’t want to take more medicine than you had to, and you also didn’t want to make a small cold more dramatic than it had to be.

“Okay, princess.” Sam finishes getting you cleaned up, then gets you back into your pajamas, pulling you to a standing position. “You want me to go tuck you in and then I can get you some milk?” 

You nod your head, your thumb still in your mouth. So, Sam takes your free hand in his own and walks you back to your shared bedroom, helping you into bed and tucking the covers up around you. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He promises. Sam sees a pacifier lying on the nightstand and quickly replaces your thumb with it in your mouth, then heads downstairs to get you some milk.

As he stands there in the kitchen, pouring the milk into a sippy cup and getting it all heated up, his mind can’t help but to wander at how different his life was than what he’d originally thought it would be. He’d never thought he’d be taking care of you like this, but he loved it. He loved having someone so dependent on him, someone who trusted him enough to give him the honor of being called daddy. 

The beeping signaling the milk was done warming up pulled Sam from his thoughts, and he takes out the sippy cup. He shakes it a couple times, then heads back up the stairs, where you’re laying in bed and coughing, sounding miserable. 

A frown forms as he comes back into the room, helping you to sit up a bit so he can first give you a sippy cup filled with water that he’d originally placed on the nightstand before you had gone to bed. “Felt okay until you laid down, huh?” He says, placing himself on his knees next to the bed, smoothing your hair back from your forehead. 

You nod your head in agreement to his words as you take a few sips of water, then hand it back to him. He trades you, handing you the milk, and as you start to drink it, he places the back of his hand on your forehead. “You feel a little warm, but not too bad.” Sam murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips when he feels her pushing against his hand, enjoying the feeling of his colder hand on her flushed skin. He’d already given you some medicine before you’d gone to bed, so he wasn’t keen on giving you more already. He was hoping you could make it through the night before he gave you more, but if you really needed it, of course, he’d give it to you. 

Sam knew thunderstorms scared you, but he hadn’t realized just how bad they scared you until that night. Whether it was because it was just a bad storm, or if it was because of being in your little space, he didn’t know. Honestly, it didn’t really matter. You were scared, and that was the only thing that mattered. 

He only realized it when you were taking a drink of milk and a loud clap of thunder rumbled through, causing you to jump so hard you inhaled while you were drinking, then sputtered as you tried to cough through it. Sam’s eyes widen as he gets up from his knees on the floor and onto the bed with you, rubbing your back. “Hey, hey… breathe…” Sam says softly, gently tugging his fingers through your hair, frown deepening when your coughing only seems to get worse. 

“Here.” Sam mumbles, handing you a Kleenex, that way you can spit whatever comes up into it. For a moment, the coughing was so bad you even got a little worried, because you literally couldn’t breathe. But finally, you managed to calm yourself enough that you could take a few slow, deep breaths, and you practically slumped into Sam’s side. 

Sam circles his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, rubbing little circles on your side with his thumb. “You’re okay, lover. I’ve got you.” He says softly, pressing a couple kisses to the top of your head. He takes the mostly empty sippy cup and puts it on the nightstand, finding your pacifier once more and sliding it into your mouth gently. “I didn’t realize thunderstorms scared you so much.” 

His words are soft and murmured quietly, but they still make you tense up. You don’t respond, just hiding your face in the crook of Sam’s neck. He chuckles quietly. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. Everyone’s afraid of something, even if they think it’s irrational. I’m afraid of clowns, remember? Clowns are fine. They’re just people. I shouldn’t be scared of them, but I am. It’s okay to be scared of thunderstorms. Just remember that daddy is here to protect you, and he’ll always be here to protect you.” 

A small smile forms on your face as you snuggle even closer up to him, wanting to just relax and let sleep take you in. But half an hour later, Sam can feel you’re still awake. He doesn’t even need to ask, he just knows your body language well enough – and he can tell you’re still tense. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?” He finally asks quietly, into the darkness of the room. “Why aren’t you sleeping, love?” 

At first you don’t answer, and Sam is starting to get a little worried, up until you finally turn away from him and just start coughing again. He sighs, rubbing his hand along your back, trying to help you relax. “Is that why you’re so tense? You’re trying not to cough?” 

“Don’t wanna keep you awake, daddy.” You mumble, and despite the circumstances, Sam can’t help but to smile at how adorable your little voice is. “Every time I breathe it makes me wanna cough.”

Sam’s starting to think he’s going to have to bring you to the doctor tomorrow, which he knows will be a battle, because you hate the doctor. But that’s a conversation for tomorrow, not tonight. “Little girl, if you don’t relax and just let yourself cough, you’re never going to relax enough to go to sleep.” 

You whine quietly as you roll back onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, even though it’s so dark in there you really can’t see it. “Then I’m gonna cough all over you and I’m gonna keep you awake. You need to sleep, daddy.” 

“You know, most babies aren’t so selfless when they’re sick.” Sam points out, just pulling you back to him, your head coming to rest on his chest. “You just forget about me for the next few days, okay?”

You sputter your indignation at his words. You couldn’t just forget about him. Sam was the most important person in your life, how were you supposed to just put your needs before his own? Especially when it was some stupid cold. 

There was a little voice in the back of your head telling you that it was okay, that it would be okay to just let Sam take care of you for a few days, and to just be a little selfish. That ‘self-care’ voice was one you had learned to ignore often, but it seemed to be getting louder and louder the more miserable you felt. 

You can tell how surprised Sam is when you finally just give into his words, nodding your head. He’d been expecting much more of a fight than that, but he was pleasantly surprised that you’d agreed to just give in. Sam knew it probably wouldn’t last very long, but if he could at least get you through the night, he could cross that bridge when he got there. “Okay. I love you, daddy.” 

There’s another smile pulling at Sam’s lips as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead once more. “I love you too, baby. And that’s right – I’m your daddy, and daddies take care of their babies.”


End file.
